Thursday, 14 June 2018

Ode to Yesterday

Fifteen blooming lilac heads
On an orchid stem
Behead one
The others wither

The smell of summer
Took us on a journey
Beginnings are colored in pastel
And middles are always molded in clay

Under a Southern sun
With Cacti, thirst and sunburns
That make you hold hands even tighter
And share the last 50 ml of water
Dangling in a heated bottle from your tired waist
We weathered the sandstorms.

I didn't need shelter as long as you called me home.

A Fata Morgana appeared
And a haze clouds my vision
Am I still taking steps forward?
Is that still your hand in mine?
A salty drop escapes
Is this the storm
Or you?

Fire in me, around me, above me
I yearn to go back to the pastel colors
And the slightly scented air
To the song you wrote me
And the stolen kisses
To the poems you wrote on my skin
And the merry thoughtlessness
To your hands around my waist
And the Jasmine in your eyes

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